Widow's Death Touch
by furaiz
Summary: Harry Potter runs into a Russian Femme Fatale in unusual circumstances. After a tormented life, Harry simply wants to be at peace. It's a shame things probably won't work out that way where the Widow is concerned. MOD!Harry Harry/Natasha
1. Prologue

**Death Touch Prologue**

* * *

**Annoyance**

A cloaked figure stalked through the foreboding corridors of the aptly named Department of Mysteries. At first glance, this seemed to be a perfectly normal occurrence in the depths of the Ministry of Magic, but the cloaked figure was not an Unspeakable. In fact, judging by the bloody footprints forming on the cracked stone floor, and yes, even the blood spattered robes of the person seemed to indicate something rather more sinister at work.

On closer inspection, the figure was extremely cautious, head slightly glancing side to side at the numerous offshoots of the corridor, ever watchful for danger as he progressed. Holes and gashes were torn into the black cloak, and the steady dripping of blood could be heard from a limp arm, cradled slightly against the person's body. The other arm was raised to chest height in front of him, clutching a gnarled stick in a black spiked gauntlet, seemingly covered in slightly silvered scales. If one was Garrick Ollivander, the Wandmaker from Diagon Alley, one would have despaired at what was a once beautiful work of art, while at the same time, swelled with pride at having created an enduring masterpiece that had clearly seen momentous events either good or ill.

Indeed, Ollivander had said at the time that it was the finest wand he had ever crafted, over 200 years ago, when he was but a mere young and fresh-faced adult in the Wizarding world, as opposed the ethereal and mysteriously wise man he was in later years. Sadly, he had never come close to reproducing such a masterpiece again. It would be some comfort to the old man that one of his creations still endured, even past his lifetime.

The man stumbled slightly as his right leg suddenly spasmed in slight pain. To anyone familiar with him, they would bet that he was now scowling slightly in anger at his body slowly failing him. He had obviously been through the ringer, and was quite obviously not in the best of conditions. He huffed a silent laugh at himself as his anger gave way to morbid amusement. _If only Mad-Eye could see me now!_

He stopped for a moment, glancing around him for some sort of confirmation of safety before drawing back his cloak slightly to look at his mangled leg. Mangled seemed to be an understatement, as he wondered to himself how he had kept going for so long without noticing. His combat trousers that had extremely durable dragon scales woven in from the now extinct Ukrainian Ironbelly, were obviously out of commission, now offering probably as much protection from harm as the thinnest piece of cloth. Even the defensive runes and charms had long since broken, leaving it nothing but a tattered mess of useless armor. He wheezed a slight hysterical chuckle at the almost blood soaked leg, with burns and gashes ripped into it, even exposing some bone in places. This was nothing, he hissed inside his head. This wasn't enough to stop him, he had too much to do to stop now! An almost absently cast localised Numbing Charm put the pain out of his mind, as he forced himself forwards once more. He needed to get back on the hunt again!

An almost inaudible growl rose in his throat as he remembered exactly why he was here. He had dreamed of this chance for years now, and now he was finally going to make the bastard pay! That monster was going to suffer for all he had done, and even as his mind supplied the treacherous words of _'You're a monster too…'_ his countenance simply darkened further, as though he was going to let such a paltry thought prevent him from delivering a well-deserved _reward_ for his prey. If he enjoyed being the monster for a change, so much the better, he thought. In fact, he thought wryly, he had been a monster for many years now. It was only fitting that one monster should be ended by another.

He smiled darkly to himself as he reminisced about the bodies he had left strewn all over the department. Each and every one had died screaming, burnt alive or torn apart, and as many gruesome ways he had thought of ending them had been used. In fact, he hoped that the stone would be permanently stained red with all the blood he had spilt, and the smouldering stench of burnt flesh would forever remain. He steadfastly ignored the emptiness he felt in his chest, locking it away in the back of his mind. A weakness he had never truly been able to get rid of, was his tendency to care about life in general. He simply refused to accept he could do that under the circumstances. But he could try and fake his enjoyment as much as he wanted. He was sure he could keep lying to himself for longer still. He had to, for his fragile sanity's sake.

A shimmering light could now be seen ahead at the end of the long corridor. In actual fact, the corridor was one big circle, and he had made sure his enemy had only one place to go, having torn through each and every room, watching the people run and scream like frightened children, as he mowed them down mercilessly. The ones who fought back were simply outmatched by his prowess, even with the advanced weaponry they wielded. Watching someone obsessed with killing people as horrifically and painfully as he could simply ignore the damage he was taking without a single flinch was utterly demoralising. It was inhuman, they thought. Then they simply thought no longer.

As he neared the room, he called out cheerfully with a slightly maniacal chuckle. "Hellooooo in there!"

The frightened whimpers of someone could be heard, as a slight shuffling sound was also noticeable. As he stepped into the room, he caught sight of his final target, whimpering and dragging himself as far away as he could. The futility of the whimpering man's actions had yet to be realised.

The man looked like he had seen better days. His once white lab coat was stained with blood, and two bloody stumps where half his legs used to be were oozing slowly, leaking his life away.

"P-Please!" he whimpered hysterically, blue eyes wide in horror as he took in the menacing visage of the cloaked figure. The green eyes he could see were glittering with madness and rage and unholy anticipation. At his words, the cloaked figure smiled a dark toothy smile, steadily widening as the 'amputation-victim' flinched even more violently and scrambled away even more frantically.

"Please?" the cloaked man replied mockingly. "I agree, it would be my pleasure to… help you." He ended darkly, his grin reaching Cheshire cat levels.

"P-Potter!" the man pleaded once more. "Spare me!" he called out frantically as he suddenly bumped up against a wall, leaving no way out anymore.

Harry simply looked at the man with that damnable grin not fading in the slightest.

"You'll die soon enough anyway." He replied nonchalantly. "Why don't we _talk_ a while?"

"I'm s-so s-sorry!" the man replied, shutting his eyes to get away from the sight of that mad grin. Unfortunately it seemed to be burned into the forefront of his mind, not letting go of his thoughts for a single moment.

If he had opened his eyes, he would have seen that grin disappear in a flash, replaced with furiously gritted teeth, as Harry struggled to reign in his temper.

"Ssssorry!?" he hissed in reply, slipping slightly into his Parseltongue, as he did when he was angry beyond belief. He growled, feet thudding heavily against the floor as he advanced menacingly on the man, who was now curling up into a ball as far as he could, eyes screwed shut in fear.

"YOU DARE APOLOGISSSSSE NOW!?" Harry roared, the room shaking in his utter fury. Black streaks of energy poured out of his body, ripping and gouging chunks out the floor and the walls, wherever they struck, yet miraculously not touching the object of his ire. After a few moments of the earth-shaking loss of control, Harry visibly steeled himself, drawing back his magic tightly under his control, but still straining and itching against his skin, ready to be let out at a moment's notice. As he gazed down in disdain at the whimpering man who had soiled himself yet again, his eyes grew ice-cold.

In many ways, this was worse than the thunderous fury of mere moments before. A palpable sense of dread pervaded the room, as every surface became like ice to the touch, frost forming around Harry's feet. The startling cold shocked the man into opening his eyes, before locking eyes with green once again. He wished he had never looked. It was if he was staring at Death's eyes.

Harry finally spoke once more, hissing slightly as he struggled not to roar in fury once more. "You really are a coward aren't you, Jack Schnee?" As each word slipped past Harry's lips, the room grew colder, until it was comparable with the dreaded cold that came with Dementors.

"Did you hope I would grant you a quick death, regardless of whatever you tried to say?" Harry continued mockingly at him, as he twirled his wand in his hand.

"Don't bother answering coward." Harry continued. "I can see your pitiful mind inside and out."

Jack simply whimpered once more, as a stabbing pain suddenly flared inside his head, along with a vindictive smirk from Potter.

"I just want to know why." Harry stated icily. "Oh, I know why, I just want to hear you ssssssay it!" he hissed once more.

"I-It wasn't meant to be this way!" Jack cried out, desperately trying to look away from the freezing gaze of Harry's eyes, but unable to do so.

"Yessss, I do believe so… _Jack_." Harry replied menacingly. "I believe you intended for only those with Magic to die. Ssssuch a sssshame that you messssed with the wrong forcessss of nature."

"Why, if it wasn't for me, all you humans would be living happily on a world without evil, evil magic!" Harry continued delightedly. "You really did mess with the wrong person when you inflicted your magic-eating virus on us all." Harry mused wistfully. "Harry didn't like it when his family died screaming in agony after all!"

An insane glint slowly grew in Harry's green eyes as he continued. "Harry didn't understand why he was able to fight off the virus, and no one else could. In fact, the virus went unnoticed at first. Just a little harmless illness after all! It would soon blow over they said!"

"Then Harry watched as his wife breathed her last. Oh poor Harry!" he added mockingly. "He especially hated it when his first son died too, and was left wondering just what deity had cursed him so!"

"Then his younger son faded away in his grief, leaving Harry with his precious little daughter." Harry added, eyes dimming slightly in pain. "He tried so, so hard. Researched everything he possibly could, but nothing could be done."

Harry's voice broke slightly as he continued. "Little Lily Luna was ever so sweet. Even while she was being slowly tortured to death by the virus, eating her magic away. 'D-Don't cry Daddy', she said. 'Daddy will make me sad too if he cries.'"

"Harry watched his only hold on his humanity slowly wither and fade away. She was nothing but skin and bones near the end. Yet she still hung on. 'Daddy still needs me' she told me. But one day, the pain became almost unbearable. 'Make it stop Daddy!' she cried."

"Harry held her in his arms, carefully soothing her as best he could. He read her favourite bedtime story while holding onto her for dear life. Harry watched as his precious daughter finally drifted off to sleep. Harry knew she would wake up again though. She always did."

Harry's eyes had glazed over in his remembrance, as he absently restrained the now snivelling Jack Schnee in an Immobilisation Charm. He slowly put his wand tip to the man's forehead as he continued.

"Harry didn't want to see his precious Lily's eyes clouded in pain anymore. He took his wand off the bedside table, watching her sleep peacefully for the first time in months. It was a sign, see?"

"He placed his wand against his precious daughter's forehead, as he broke his final promise not to cry. He gently caressed her forehead lovingly."

"Then he decided to use it."

Harry looked through Jack, as though he was not there.

"Goodbye Lily, he said. I love you."

"Avada Kedavra" Harry whispered brokenly.

Eerie green light flared throughout the room ending the life of Jack Schnee. His body hit the floor with a dull thump, the sound reverberating around the room. As the light faded, Harry Potter's eyes could be seen as the same shade of deadly light.

**/**

Emerald green eyes burst open as a blaring sound rang inside his head. Harry Potter quickly stood up out of the chair he had dozed off in, before glancing out of his window into the massive thunderstorm whipping around the cabin he lived in. He shivered slightly, before gathering his bearings once more.

The wards had just been breached.

He didn't know how, or why, but something odd was going on. Striding over to his door, while fingering a serrated knife in his right hand, in case of trouble, he flung the door open wide, to see a bloodied figure crawling across the ground sluggishly, seemingly unaware of what was going on around them.

He knew his wards did not do that to the person. Even more importantly, there was no one capable of breaking his wards. They were still intact, so how had this injured person gotten through his Fidelius? Muttering under his breath about the possible ramifications, he stepped outside in his plain shirt and jeans, straight into the storm, quickly craning his head around to check for other intruders. He knew his wards said there was only one intruder that had breached the wards, but he had learnt to be careful. As he reached the figure, a flash of thunder illuminated the area, eerily lighting up his face, set in an emotionless facade, and outlining several scars.

They also highlighted the injured… woman, which he could now see. Red-headed with blue eyes that seemed to be slightly unfocused at the moment, wearing a skin-tight suit. He could also clearly see several weapons such as combat knives and handguns strapped to her legs, raising his interest in the unknown woman. She focused on him for a split second, attempting to say something, but fell limp as she succumbed to unconsciousness.

Harry grumbled at his misfortune, before scooping her up and carrying her inside his cabin. He took one last look outside, spotting nothing out of the ordinary, before shaking his head and shutting the door firmly.

He hated unknowns.

* * *

**AN 07.08.14**

**So yeah. My muse was well and truly dead so I decided to give it a kick-start and write something it wanted to write.**

**Shame I can't make it write what I want to write, my FT fanfic for example. Patience on that though.**

**In any case, this is a fic I've had in the 'idea stage' for a long time, so I decided to write up the first chapter of it. Yes, you eventually learn how he gets from the Department of Mysteries to his little isolated cabin. Eventually. Probably won't be too frequent for updates here. Will try when the mood strikes me. Enjoy this for now. Will get written to completion at some point as always.**


	2. Cranky

**Cranky**

* * *

"Crazy woman." Harry muttered rebelliously to himself as he flittered around her form, currently lain carefully on his cabin's only bed. "Dripping blood all over my floor. All the cleaning will be your job I swear."

"A bloody fine state you've found yourself in huh?" he questioned the unresponsive red-head rhetorically. "I swear, the only person I've known to recover from injuries like these was myself. Everyone else would be dead by now."

"'Course it doesn't matter when I can freeze everything in its current state… And not to mention…" he trailed off slowly, glancing around to his bedside cabinet, before carefully eyeing several vials of liquid he had placed out. "These potions won't be suitable for muggles will they?"

At this realisation, Harry scowled slightly. "You just became even more trouble my dear." Harry ran a weary hand through his messy hair, now having a shade of grey in it, looking slightly more distinguished than the ebony it once was. He glanced at a bone white wand strapped to his right forearm, before groaning slightly in annoyance. "This one just happens to be too powerful for delicate tasks like this."

"Freaking Elder is no good for healing anyway. Honestly Harry!" He frowned before distractedly gesturing with his left hand, before a wand came flying into it. He couldn't help but flinch slightly as he turned to look at it, before hastily averting his eyes from the gnarled almost midnight blue sheened wand. He hated it with every fibre of his being. He snarled slightly as he forced a trembling hand towards some of the woman's major wounds. "Lucky you're so resilient huh? I wouldn't have to use this monster if you'd already died like a nice person would have."

His face closed off slightly and his eyes blanked as he began breathing slightly more raggedly. "Stop it Harry!" he mumbled to himself. "Get a grip and heal this damn woman!"

After a firm nod of his head, as though affirming to himself he was ready to begin, he began tracing the wand point over several of the red-heads wounds, some of which looked like had been carved into her as part of torture. "I would know wouldn't I?" he murmured to himself once more, as he gathered his magic. "Pretty women shouldn't be tortured in such a way…" he sighed.

With that, he swept his wand sideways above her body, with each pass from side to side reducing the wounds until they seemed to fade into unblemished skin in a matter of moments. Some random crushed bits of metal, most likely bullets extracted themselves from her body during the process, before the wounds closed over and healed. "Well… I was never that good at healing. You're a strange one." Harry frowned at the incredible results of his healing attempt. "Usually takes me several hours to heal wounds like that. Almost as if you've got your own advanced healing system. Not normal. Hmm."

"Can't complain, I guess." Harry sighed. "Sooner you're fixed, sooner you're gone."

"But not before I find out everything you're hiding in that brain of yours." Harry murmured, eyes darkening slightly. "Nobody just finds their way onto my property." He murmured again, before banishing away his midnight blue wand and drawing the bone white Elder Wand.

As he looked at the now much more relaxed and steadily breathing woman, who was still under the effects of a strong sleeping charm, his lips twitched slightly into a smirk before becoming completely emotionless and detached. "I'd ask if you were ready to tell me your secrets, except I don't ask."

"I find out. _Legilmens!_"

* * *

**/**

Awareness slowly came to Natasha Romanoff's mind, as she lay on what felt like a very soft mattress. Being a trained spy, she soon became alert to the strangeness of her situation, before remembering what had happened to her.

It had been a routine mission, or so they had said. _'One to advance the glory of the Soviets!'_ one of her more fanatical handlers had bleated in excitement. Only to turn out to be a setup. They were trying to eliminate her! After all she had done in service to her motherland! The realisation had come after several weeks of torture, you see. No one was coming for her, because, One, She was a spy, with a lot of delicate secrets, therefore she was expected to die in service to her country. Two, She recognised her capturer as a fellow spy, that smirking bastard. The amount of times she had to deal with him was almost worse than being betrayed by the only family she had ever known. He had delighted himself in informing her that her years of service were much appreciated, but she was now being terminated. The project was over, he had said. Of course, being the bastard he was, he wanted to get some payback for all the times she had stomped on his overinflated ego.

He was a skilled torturer, she had to grudgingly admit. The indignity of it all was what hurt the most in her mind though. The bastard hadn't killed her, probably wanting to break her first, as petty revenge. Kill her and be done with it. Dragging it out was simply infuriating. She would make sure he regretted his actions long before she died. And perhaps, she would teach her motherland a few lessons in humility once she got free. And make no mistake, she knew she would get free. She always had. And then, she would unleash hell on them all.

Her chance had come about 8 weeks into her torture, or thereabouts. It was hard to keep track of time in an underground cell, with no access to light of any kind. She judged it as best as she could on guard rotations, and extrapolating from that point to get an approximation of the time that had passed. Her oh so kind torturer had decided to do something _different_. Natasha was surprised it had taken so long for trash like him to attempt it. She had scoffed in derision when he declared he was now going to demonstrate her place as woman in a 'man's' world. As if she was going to take that without a fight!

She had been working on getting out of her metal restraints as best as she could, with the slightly enhanced strength she had gotten from the Black Widow Ops program. When he approached, she managed to yank her hands out of her metal restraints, tearing the skin off around them, before snapping the man's neck in one swift action. After that, it had been a bit of blur. She had pinched the keys off her torturer, ignoring the damage to her hands and general weeks of torture and starvation, before cutting through the base with a vengeful wrath. It hadn't all been smooth sailing, after being shot a few times on her way out. It got even hazier when she had gotten out, heading towards the nearest sign of civilisation, a small town situated a few miles away from the Russian Base she had recognised. She had barely gotten halfway to the town before her legs gave way. Stubbornly she had continued dragging herself forwards with her ruined hands, before spotting a small cabin a short way away, with a flickering light on in the window.

She had no choice. She wanted to live damn it! She had almost reached the door, when it had flung open, revealing a figure peering out cautiously, before it looked at her. The man had strode over to her, and as her eyesight finally focused for a moment, she opened her mouth and looked at his bright green eyes, before everything simply blacked out.

And then she had woken up, who knows how much later, on a soft mattress. Her mind snapped onto the memory of the man she had seen last, now remembering more details. The green eyes were very striking, but she was more interested in how he was holding a wickedly sharp combat knife of all things, not to mention some of the scars she had seen when his face had been illuminated by a brief flash of lightning. This man had definitely seen combat. And that perhaps, was a problem.

Of course, she was no fool, and recognised that she did not seem to be in any pain, but neither was she numb. The green eyed man must have taken care of her, and tended her wounds. Even now, her mind was whirring, trying to assess possible motives for doing so, just in case. She knew this man must have noticed her advanced healing surely. He had obviously seen for himself. Frowning slightly in her own mind, she realised she was unlikely to have any of her weapons and gear, but neither was she helpless. If she were still a naïve little girl, she would have flushed slightly at the fact she had been changed into some sort of clothing that was not her black combat suit. And in the same moment, she realised her suit would have been mostly unusable anyway, and in the interest of healing her, it would have been easier to take it off.

Slowly she let her awareness drift further away from her immediate area, listening for the sounds, and the smells of the area. She needed to be prepared for anything.

She wasn't prepared however, for the bucket of water that was tipped onto her head.

"WHAT THE HELL!" she screamed in shock, forgetting all of her training as a spy for one single moment of sheer incredulity. She bolted flat upright, arms lashing out in reflex, before settling a wide eyed gaze on a smirking green eyed man sat on a chair next to her.

Before she could vent her frustration on him, he spoke up in a noticeably English accent, as though he were simply bored.

"Oh good. You're awake."

* * *

**/**

"Awake? Yes I certainly am now!" she sputtered slightly, while looking remarkably like a drowned puppy, or at least what Harry liked to believe was a 'drowned puppy' look. In fact it was more like a wet cat, about to claw at him for daring to soak her.

Instead of worrying about her anger, he simply frowned. "Isn't it redundant to state that you're awake?" He inquired lightly. "I'm sure I had already ensured that my dear."

Natasha was now utterly flabbergasted. This man… This man had unceremoniously woken up a person obviously recovering from grievous injuries, with a bucket of ice cold water! Of course she felt perfectly fine, if a little more tired than normal, but still! The principle of the matter was that nobody did that unless they were deliberately trying to torture someone! With that thought she slightly tensed up, drawing the man's attention again.

Harry raised an eyebrow slightly at the sudden tensing before mentally reaching the same conclusion the woman had. Natalia was her name he had found out, or Natasha, but he wasn't sure who she would refer to herself as anyway. Her memories had gleaned quite a lot of information, some of which Harry had barely batted an eye at, especially given some of the things he had witnessed. He simply interrupted her train of thought with a slight assurance, or what he hoped would be assuring. "I didn't wake you up to torture you, you know?"

Catching the slight relaxation of her form, he continued getting to the real issue.

"In fact, I would like it if you would leave now. You've had my bed for several days, and I'm getting very cranky having to sleep on my sofa. You just can't show up on people's doorsteps, bleeding over everything and expect to be waited on hand and foot. What are you trying to be? A Celebrity huh?" he ranted slightly, channelling Snape for a moment.

Sadly Natasha's training had gone completely out of her head, as she struggled to make sense of being somehow lectured for getting injured… and annoying perfectly nice ordinary people? Was that what he was muttering now? When he got to the fact he had to clean up all that blood, and the offhanded mention of how difficult that always was, she focused on him with slightly more interest.

"I'm sure you're used to cleaning up innocent maiden's blood. What does one more matter to you?" she blurted out in the middle of the man's muttering. She suddenly realised the connotations of what she had said, and forcefully tried to ignore what she was sure was now a slight flush creeping up her face at her embarrassment.

"True." The man simply replied to her without a single ounce of deceit. "I usually don't clean up afterwards though."

Natasha frowned subtly as her misdirection seemed to work, but still hadn't managed to get her thoughts back on track as she blushed even more at the innuendo.

"Innocent is probably not a word I would use to describe you with though, my dear." Harry smirked slightly at his guests little human games. _How useless. Playing that little act won't work on someone who knows your every little trick._

"So drop the act Miss Secret Thingamajig, and get out." Harry spoke coldly. "Your stuff is in the other room."

Immediately after he had spoken, he was now looking upon a cool and detached expression that had formed on her face.

"I see. It seems we have a problem then." She spoke flatly.

"Liabilities huh, what can you do?" Harry retorted slightly mockingly.

"I'm sorry, but I can't have anyone knowing about me." She continued on with her emotionally detached voice.

Harry simply lifted an eyebrow as if to say. _'And what are you going to do about it?'_

Without warning, Natasha Romanoff sprang at him.

* * *

**AN**

**So… Muse still kicking. Oh joyous day!**

**First meeting I guess. It's all perfectly plausible. Harry is a liability, and as a trained spy/assassin etc, no matter how distasteful, she has to cover all her bases, especially since she has been marked for 'termination' in a way. She was also trained to stop any emotional bias from causing issues. It's understandable. Governments would probably sweep things like the Black Widow Ops program under the rug as cleanly as they can anyway. Especially in this universe.**

**I should inform you that there are no Wizards other than Harry. It was alluded to in the first chapter, but there you have it confirmed. It'll be confirmed in the story as well, but I'll clear it up now.**

**Harry Potter is the Master of Death, but what that means, I won't discuss yet. Also, he is not in his own Universe anymore. I have something lined up to explain how, but you can guess why he left his old one I'm sure. A good deal of this fic is based on Harry and Natasha's interactions, but he will have some role in the Avengers story. How big and what exactly he's going to be doing is also interesting.**

**You'll get to see lot more detail on what actually happened to Harry later on. You got a fairly gruesome glimpse towards the end of that prologue, but not the full scale yet.**

**Should be a nice read to see what happens next.**


	3. Like Clay

**Like Clay**

* * *

Ducking under a strong whipping leg from Natasha Romanoff, Harry grinned slightly in anticipation, even as he brought up his left hand to catch a powerful thrust of the other leg, before pushing back firmly with a small grunt of effort. That wasn't enough to throw off the Russian super spy though, as she acrobatically flipped backwards to land almost catlike, looking at her opponent with a faint glimmer of interest before it was swiftly replaced with a cold icy stare once more.

Harry simply grinned even wider, actually standing in an almost relaxed state, as he kept his eyes firmly on hers. A wordless agreement seemed to be made, before she launched at him again, flowing into a swift and brutal combination of Martial Arts, aiming to incapacitate him. Harry almost burst out giggling, but restrained himself to a slight snicker, as he leant back slightly before whipping his body forward, deflecting her kicks and elbow strikes, and pushing her away heavily with a single hand, causing her eyes to widen in surprise.

"Patience young grasshopper!" he remonstrated mockingly, wagging a finger slightly at his opponent's foolishness.

"Didn't I tell you your weapons were in the room behind you?" Harry snickered slightly with a slight gleam in his eyes. "Come now, aren't you supposed to be a big shot assassin?" he added condescendingly. This really was too amusing. _Muggles_ and their antics. Nothing in the face of his power. Why, she couldn't even understand how he was subtly directing all her moves with naught but his own will!

"But don't get overeager!" he added loudly, as she inched towards the open door behind her. "I really hate cleaning up blood." He sighed dramatically. "But surely you want to kill me for the motherland!" he continued with bubbling laughter.

"Remember?" he sang mockingly as he walked towards the backing away spy.

Natasha's eyes seemed to blank slightly in confusion as his words drilled into her head. "W-what?"

At her slightly nervous look, Harry cackled madly. "Ickle Ickle Baby Spy! Why don't we play a game?"

At these words Natasha stumbled back, and the room became utterly pitch black. She was rendered completely blind.

"I'll be the Widow… You'll be the fly…" a chilling whisper sounded around the room.

"Won't that be fun?" the whisper sounded directly in her ear now, causing her to strike out directly, but hitting nothing but thin air. Even the sound of own breathing felt oddly magnified in the endless dark. Even now, panic was setting in, digging its claws into her mind, shredding her slowly and teasingly, piece by piece.

"Don't you remember my dear?" the voice spoke slightly less eerily now, encompassing the whole room. "I'm a liability! Aren't you meant to be doing something right about now?"

"For the motherland hmm?" the voice resounded, mockingly this time, but with a slight hint of urgency oddly included.

_For the motherland._

Then everything suddenly clicked back into place again. The green eyed man, who healed her. The escape from her prolonged torture. Wait.

That was it. She had been betrayed… What had happened to her? The last thing she could remember was… _"Liabilities huh, what can you do?" _ Yes that was it. What happened after that? But as she tried to grasp it once more, the memories trickled away like water, before something oily seemed to be seeping into her mind, causing her to whimper once more and then… silence. Blissful silence.

It was all clear now. Mission Protocol: Terminate All Liabilities.

And then she became cold and detached once more. Terminate the green eyed man. Her entire existence was devoted to this. Yes! For the motherland! Her eyes blanked before clouding over in confusion again, as a strange tugging sensation seemed to ripple through her whole body. The world suddenly felt inverted, before it snapped back into place in an almost metallic screeching noise.

"Can't have you getting lost in daydreams now little fly…" a ghostly voice whispered around her, freezing her to the spot. "You might get caught, and never notice until it's too _late._"

"Perhaps I should feel flattered at your… enthusiasm my dear." The teasing voice now returned. "It's been so long since someone wanted to kill me so badly…"

"It's just a shame it has to be such a clinical thing." The voice remarked almost wistfully. "If only you truly felt something about it…" it added offhandedly. "Intent to kill, with real feeling behind it. Those ones always made me shiver in excitement!"

High pitched and cold laughter now rang out, filling every part of the black world, as she slowly drew into herself in reflex. Growling slightly in one shout of defiance she yelled out. "What the hell do you want with me!?"

Her voice seemed to echo slightly, before everything became quiet once more. Thankfully enough, she was now feeling more courageous than before, because she bitingly snapped out in increasing anger. "Nothing to say!?"

This time there was only a moment's pause before the reply came.

"I just want you to get out my dear." It voiced almost kindly.

"Get the hell out of where!?" she snarled back at the confusing answer.

Even being able to see nothing, she could practically feel the smirk on the infuriating man's face… no whatever the hell it was, it was certainly no ordinary man. Just what was happening to her?

"Didn't I already tell you… before?" it replied teasingly this time. "Drop the act girly!" it snarled now reminiscent of an old gnarled Auror with an electric blue magical eye.

"_So drop the act Miss Secret Thingamajig, and get out." _The cold voice in her memory supplied, at his words.

"Did you really call me a Secret Thingamajig?" she voiced incredulously, forgetting her position for the moment.

Gruff barking laughter rang in her ears.

Frowning at her lack of self-control she fell silent once more, pondering what it meant. Though she certainly knew her training hadn't prepared her for this level of mind trickery… Wait. Training. This stirred a memory.

…Those bastards! She howled at the indignity of it all in her head! They had brainwashed her!

"Heheheheeee" wild giggling broke out at her realisation, causing her to shiver slightly at the powerful sense of fear that had engulfed her.

"And the truth shall ssset you free!" the voice hissed silkily in triumph.

"Stop it, Stop it, Stop it!" Natasha shivered as a wave of fear thrummed through her very bones.

"The truth my dear… Is both a wondrous and terrifying thing." The voice supplied softly.

"But what will you make of it?" it added, practically broadcasting a full on grin through the words.

As she began frantically scrabbling for anything… to _feel safe, safe again, away from the monsters under her bed, the demons in the closets, the endless scientists in their gleaming white coats-_

"I hadn't thought you would be so _weak!_" the voice snarled now. "Pathetic!" it growled as she whimpered again.

"Perhaps I was wrong…" it added almost mournfully. "You're just a scared little child who wants her mummy and daddy aren't you?"

"Perhaps your mummy and daddy never loved you?" the voice remarked apathetically. "They knew the little girl was weak, so they threw her out-"

"Don't you dare." She hissed out, furiously cold with anger. "Don't you dare call me weak, don't you dare insult me anymore." She continued, eyes narrowing in anger. "You're the one who's weak here. You pathetic worm!" she yelled, causing the black world to tremble slightly.

"This isn't even real…" she growled. "No more! I refuse to play along with anymore of your mind games!"

"This is my mind, and you are not welcome here!" she snarled out, clenching her fists tightly. "So… you get out!"

Panting slightly, she breathed a sigh of relief as the blackness seemed to warp back into the familiar colours of reality, only to see the green eyed man still sat in the same chair with a cocky smirk she was now really starting to utterly loathe.

Before she could rip into him once more, he simply spoke.

"Are you going to stare at me all day my dear? Because I could have sworn I asked you to leave five minutes ago."

"I know I'm good looking and all, but this must be a record for having someone stare at me for so long."

* * *

**/**

Natasha stared unresponsively at the man even after he had told her she had been sat there, dripping wet… _ogling_ him. The nerve of that…

Under normal circumstances she probably would have smashed the nearest heavy object on his head to knock him out, but she was still reeling from an _unpleasant_ experience. Understatement. That was downright mind-bending and utterly terrifying. Fortunate that she didn't seem to be showing that in any way at all.

The man… no… creature… she refused to believe that was all a hallucination, was starting to seem a little _annoyed_. Good, she thought. She would count that as a point back to her. Long way to go to even the score though.

"It seems I have a defective Russian sex-doll, operator." A crisp British accent cut through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter, as her mind screeched to a halt. What. Did. He. Just. Say.

"I know I should probably ring the store and get them to replace the damn thing, but I just want to vent. You understand don't you sir?" he continued on inexorably, before she grit her teeth and looked at him with all the frigidity she could muster.

Only for her jaw to drop open in shock. _He was actually on the phone! HE WAS ON THE PHONE TO THE OPERATOR!_

"I'm pretty sure it's not the power supply. No. Don't all Russian sex-dolls come with their own power supplies? Mine did, but she seems to have misplaced it."

"In fact she's making horrid grinding noises right now!"

"…"

"Yes, she probably does have a stick up her arse. You know it's nice to talk to a familiar accent. Especially over here in 'mother Russia'" he drawled sarcastically, astutely ignoring the red-head.

"I would have invited you for tea if I could. You would have been able to take a look at her as well. I swear, a second opinion is always helpful. Bye now!" he whistled cheerily before ending the call.

"Ah so, the lady decided she is capable of functioning hmm?" he smirked at her angry visage.

"Wowee, you're pissed." Harry frowned curiously. "Was it something I said?"

"Yesssss." she hissed out, eyes practically slitted.

"Now that you've decided to wake and smell the roses, what have you learnt?" he inquired seriously, dropping all manner of teasing for a straightforward and direct question.

"You are an insufferable bastard." She smiled politely, with eyes promising pain.

"I know." Harry replied simply. "I'm usually worse." He added, causing Natasha's eyebrows to rise even higher in disbelief.

"I fail to see how that is possible." She frowned. "No. Don't go there." She snapped firmly, as she saw the man opening his mouth to say something no doubt even worse.

"You're also a very… very… dangerous man." She continued, her voice deepening in pitch and becoming very husky and seductive. Or at least, seductive to any other man she had met.

Harry simply looked at her blankly, before snorting in amusement.

"Look girl, that just isn't going to work." He stated simply. "I've seen the act so many times before, it doesn't even bother me." _Of course, it was very attractive the first few hundred times I saw you do it. But ah, everything becomes… stale after a while. _His lips twitched slightly at the thought. _Though, it is still extremely attractive in the flesh. No stop it Harry, bad Harry! _He berated himself mentally.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes before carefully looking at him with calculating blue eyes. _Funny how he calls me 'girl' or my dear, as if he's older than me. He seems barely into his 30's except for the grey streaks he's got._

"Why don't we get to the point Natalia Romanova?" the man suddenly asked, eyes darkening slightly as Natasha tensed in surprise at him knowing her name.

"You shouldn't really be surprised, I got it out of your head after all." He continued monotonously. "Black Widow, really?"

Hopefully showcasing her indifference to his knowledge she calmly stated. "So you are obviously in the know."

"But you don't know everything. Revealing that to me, means I have to eliminate you if I am to get away from the termination of the program. Just survival instincts, you understand?" she finished sweetly.

"Considering I went rifling through your head, to fix what those abominations did to your mind, I doubt you know yourself better than I do." Harry calmly returned, causing Natalia to shiver slightly.

"Of course, I didn't do it the nice way, but frankly, _I was bored._" He smiled mirthlessly, causing Natalia to tremble slightly in suppressed rage.

"Can you imagine what it felt like?" Harry continued smiling mirthlessly. "A woman just so happens to find their way onto my property when not a single living creature has ever been able to do so. She just happens to be dying too!"

"And then, I find she has rapid healing of some sort. What is this creature that has come to my door?" Harry continued monotonously, ignoring Natalia's gasp of pain at his referring to her as a creature.

"It was funny, see?" He continued. "I live here by myself, and I find myself ever so… restless…" he scowled slightly at his own words, before continuing. "I take amusement in the fleeting things I can, see?"

"And you… amuse me." Harry smiled toothily now. "Quite a lot actually." He added in a murmur.

"Don't misunderstand me, my dear, but I don't take amusement in torturing people. And I certainly… _dislike_… scientists a great deal."

"But what I did to you was _not_ torture." Harry admitted "You may disagree, but you needed to break through that yourself. Quick fixes do not exist."

"So now that we've established that neither of us is going to kill the other…" At this, Natalia let out a small scoff, causing Harry's lips to twitch slightly.

"I guess I should introduce myself to the Russian sex-doll." Harry continued straight-faced, ignoring her cry of outrage.

"Hello Natalia Romanova, my name is Harry Potter."

"I'm sure we'll get along just fine!" he smirked slightly.

"After I kill you." she replied dangerously sweet.

* * *

**AN 09.08.2014**

**So, was gonna pop this out tomorrow, but finished it satisfactorily enough for my own happiness. In any case, every chapter has been hitting 2.5k roughly, so I'll keep that average up, and I'll probably burn out many chapters rather quickly in that way.**

**It seems slightly 'anime-ish' where he's on the phone to the operator, perhaps in the reactions department, but that's alright for me. Harry isn't completely… there, and hasn't been for a while. No, Natasha(when she forcefully corrects his name for her) will not be living with Harry. That's just the makings of a bad sitcom in fanfic form, and that's just not what I want. Humorous at times yes, but I still want to treat this seriously. The more mature stuff comes up soon, and Harry will probably stabilise some semblance of a personality when talking to Natasha, though he has some of it already coming through. He can be pretty off the wall right now, but don't worry about it descending into some sort of bad parody of a Schizophrenic Harry xD He is actually very mature, having been through a lot of crap, but at the same time it forces him to be slightly childish to deal with some aspects. Hope that's understandable at the moment. This chapter was freaky for Schizo!Harry cases though xD**

**And no, Natasha isn't going to be some damsel in distress. This just happens to be the early life-phase where she breaks out of her brainwashing and conditioning crap by the Ops Program before going freelance. She'll soon be back to badass form, even if she seems to be pretty cool right now, she still has to deal with her background. I'll cover that just as well as I do Harry's!**

**Til next time!**


	4. Instinct

**Instinct**

* * *

"So, what will you do now Natalia Romanova?" Harry raised an eyebrow at her slightly clenching hands, as though she was trying her hardest to remain in control.

"Because, my idea of getting along is you leaving right about now, after all I've been quite clear on that point so far." He added smoothly.

"Why are you so damn eager to get rid of me?" she replied, glowering at him. "I didn't ask to end up in this situation!"

"No, but you were stupid enough to get yourself into a mess in the first place." Harry returned swiftly. "After all my dear, if it weren't for your… quirks shall we say? You would be dead now."

"As far as I'm concerned, you're just another tortured soul, and one is enough in my house." Harry scowled at her slightly. "You're just lucky I'm in a good mood today."

"A good mood?" Natalia queried him incredulously. "You're downright grouchy!"

"Yes well, perhaps I should have said _was_." Harry grumbled. "After all, you're quickly becoming a nuisance."

"Well so sorry to disappoint you." She fired back, voice dripping with stinging sarcasm.

"I should hope you are." Harry barely batted an eye as he returned her barbed words with an almost affable smile.

Biting back a snarl, she instead replied as sweetly as she could, though that was a matter of interpretation. "Well I can't leave now. I'm being searched for, unless you're going to tell me that they aren't."

"With proof." She added, causing Harry to shut his mouth in slight annoyance.

"Can't deny that my dear." He eventually replied.

"For the sake of your continued existence, I suggest you refrain from calling me 'my dear' Potter." She ground out slowly, as though wanting nothing more than him to dare say it again. She hated been talked down to as if she were a child! She was older than Potter, of that she was… well… almost certain? He was a rather unusual person, if he was even human. Of course, during her line of work, she had seen many unusual things, a non-human bipedal that looked like a human was in the realm of possibilities.

"Then for the sake of my continued existence, what do you suggest I call you?" Harry replied, this time deigning not to continue his teasing and taunting of the recently recovered Widow.

"Romanoff will do for now." She replied quickly.

"Your non-Russian cover name?" Harry inquired curiously. "Don't see how it's not recognisable at all." He added dully.

"It's a real name, moron." She retorted. "I have two different versions of my own."

"Eh, fair point." Harry murmured. "Wouldn't be much of a spy if that was a cover name."

"Glad you understand." She replied smoothly.

"So Romanoff, what happens now?" Harry asked her slowly, having just come to the realisation that he had no idea of what would happen now. "I mean, how are we to get rid of you?"

Ignoring Potter's fixation on getting her out of his… house… for now, she thought for a moment. She realised that it would be far more difficult than she thought at first. Then again, it was a secret project, and if she could somehow get away without being noticed, and deal with the people behind it, she'd be free to move around unhindered.

"Do you honestly think it would be so easy Romanoff?" Harry interrupted her musing after a moment, reminding her that there was someone fully capable of somehow reading her thoughts in the same room with her. "First of all, are you even capable of actually eliminating said people? Last I checked, you almost died. You can't simply just get back into the swing of things after a psychotic break like that either."

"I know you can read my mind. I'm not imagining that." Natasha fired back at his words. "I'm not having a breakdown or anything here Potter."

"Coulda fooled me!" he scoffed with amusement. "Last I remember, you were shaking like a leaf."

"That may be, but I'll be damned if something so trivial would put me out of action." Natasha retorted hotly. "I'm a highly trained-"

"Brainwashed." Harry interrupted, before she forcefully continued.

"_Trained_ professional."

"Lady, you're barely a fly in this business." Harry snorted. "Let alone a bloody spider."

"…"

"Let me put it this way." Harry smiled grimly. "Does a brainwashed professional spy, slash assassin, slash soldier, have any concept of feelings?" he growled out, ignoring her insistence on being a trained professional.

"Aren't you the least bit scared… apprehensive, or even just a little excited?" Harry added. "I certainly can see that you show emotion, but you seem to lack even the basic understanding of it. Scientific definitions maybe, but you've never truly felt anything but fear."

At her silence, he continued. "Wanna know how I know?"

"It's because you're an animal." He concluded smoothly.

"What the hell are you on about Potter?" Natasha hissed at the apparent insult. "I'm the animal here!?"

"Huh!" she huffed a moment later.

"Am I making you mad?" Harry stared at her blankly. "Because you don't know what _mad_ isss…"

The intense freezing chill that flooded the room made her attempt to talk back die in her throat as a soft whimper.

"Do you even know what hate, sssorrow, remorssse, hell… even _love_ isss?" he continued, terrifyingly blank and cold all of a sudden. "Becaussse if you dare sssay sssuch a thing my dear… I might be ever ssso tempted to put you down like a dog." He snapped the last word with power, causing her to flinch back away from him instantly.

"Now tell me fly…" Harry smirked mirthlessly. "What do you feel?" he questioned her eerily, watching as her deceptively slender form trembled for the slightest instance, before steeling and tensing once more.

Harry's nostrils flared for a moment at her stubbornness and refusal to see herself for what she truly was. _Fine… have it the hard way_, He thought darkly.

"In this house is a room." Harry began all of a sudden, gazing into the depths of her eyes, as if staring into her very soul. "Why don't you… go see?" he suggested almost nonchalantly, but his eyes suddenly seemed to burn into her like hot pokers, as if daring her to contradict him.

"It's a lovely room." He added offhandedly. "Very pretty."

"I'll let you see it if you like." he continued emotionlessly. "See, it's just on the right there." He added, slowly pointing his finger to a black door with rusty hinges, which she could have sworn was never there when she last checked. She knew it couldn't be there as it lead to the outside of the house, yet it was not a door visible on the outside, but couldn't help but let it draw her eye, as if something compelled her to go and see.

"N-No…" she shivered slightly at the almost irresistible temptation. "I d-don't want to!" she exclaimed slightly weakly, as her own legs seemed to ignore her own mind's pleading cries.

"NO!" she yelled all of a sudden, causing her legs to falter in their movements, before a steel like phantom grip seemed to take hold of her and force her to continue her inexorable walk towards the door. A moment later, Harry swept past her without paying the slightest bit of attention, merely twisting the door handle, as the click of unlocking echoed loudly in her ears. "No no no no no!" she repeated like a mantra, yet still not being able to break free.

As she finally drew within an arm's reach of the door, Harry spoke, absent of all feeling. "Humans and animals are both alike, Romanoff." She now couldn't reply, feeling as though her mouth was glued shut, and even her thoughts couldn't seem to grasp anything other than what he was saying.

"When it comes down to it, Humans have the same instincts that animals do." He added, this time looking her in the eye with some undecipherable emotion, though the rest of his face remained utterly devoid of feeling. "Humans may be alike, but they are not the same Romanoff."

"Like it or not, you are not human at the moment." Harry declared. "Sure, you are human in almost every way except one. And it's the only part that separates humans from animals. Unluckily for you, I have no more patience to spare. So now I teach you a lesson I hope you will never forget."

"Oh and trust me… I'm being kind." His face suddenly lit up in a bright toothy smile that seemed to convey no kindness at all. It was completely contradictory to his words.

And with that, her feet lurched her forwards through the door, into pitch black darkness, the door slamming shut and locking behind her. Slowly but surely as her eyes adjusted slightly, she could see a faint silver shimmer in the centre of the room. By now, she had completely abandoned all thoughts of getting out. She knew he wouldn't allow it. And somehow she also knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him having so much control over her at this point in time. Why not see what he wanted her to see? It couldn't hurt could it? H-He was only being kind. He said so!

Oddly enough, she could not recall him lying to her at all. That being said, she hadn't been able to ask him much of anything, her mind being in far too much turmoil. But he hadn't really said much either. He'd talked a lot, but never seemed to go anywhere meaningful with his words, until he became… scary. If scary was the right word. He seemed to become almost alien to her. Anathema to her own instincts even. Everything he seemed to do had some sort of purpose. But some of it was so far beyond her understanding she couldn't even begin to guess. He was a complete enigma to her. She felt like she knew him and yet not at all. Though his words seemed meaningless at times, his actions always caused something to happen. Her wandering thoughts soon became fixated on the room however, as the shimmering silver light drew her attention.

Realising that she now had free will over her own body at the moment, she walked towards it. At this point she couldn't help but think that perhaps this wasn't her will at all. Potter had seemed perfectly capable of forcing her to do things against her will, or even to twist her thoughts. She had to throw everything she had first thought about him out of the window. She had nothing to compare him to, and no knowledge of his true power. Sure, she knew he could read her mind, make her do things she had no desire to do, or even make her desire to do things that she wouldn't normally. But when he had become ever so cold and terrifying, she felt like she truly was a fly. But he hadn't lied. He had been truthful. Even to the point of wanting her to leave. He truly wished her to go. Somehow, his voice never told a lie, but his emotions were completely deceitful and misleading. She couldn't read anything unless he spoke. And for someone who tried to understand the people around her by seeing them, this was a strange thing to be confronted with. If she were close enough to hear some people talk, she would perhaps be too close for safety's sake, especially on a mission.

Finally the shimmer became clear to her. Where everything else was a void of blackness, this object was a source of light. As she stepped towards what seemed to be a silvery sheet covering a tall rectangular object, she noticed her own footprints on the floorboards. Whatever this room contained, even Harry had not been to see for a very long time. The floor was covered in what seemed like inches of dust, as though it had remained utterly undisturbed. A small circle seemed to be lit up by this glow, showing the dust covering the old and… silent floorboards. She now realised she could not even hear her own breaths, footsteps or even command her own voice to speak. It seemed like everything had been stolen away by the curiosity in front of her. But she knew she had come too far now. There was only way forward. She _needed_ to see what was under that silvery veil.

Firmly grasping the sheet in two clenched hands, she shut her eyes in slight trepidation, before slowly pulling the sheet off in one motion. She allowed the sheet to drop from her suddenly nerveless hands, as her body seemed to tremble for a moment. Her eyes remained screwed shut as she suddenly began to feel she had made a terrible mistake.

_Look at me._

An ethereal voice seemed to speak into her mind, urging her to see. Just to take one little peek at what lay before her. She suddenly thought back to what she had seen in Harry's eyes when he was talking about this room. A voiceless whimper sounded in her parched throat as she realised with a lurch that he was unimaginably terrified. So terrified, that she had not even been able to process the feeling. And she knew what fear was. Or at least she thought she did, right up until this very moment.

_Look at me._

The voice sounded to her ever so slightly more insistent, as the tension seemed to grow. Her bones seemed to rattle slightly, and her heart began to quicken. Her eyes were screwed so tightly shut, water began to form in the corners, slowly trailing down her cheeks. She didn't want to do it, but she knew she had been caught. The trap had been sprung, and she was bound in the web. How apt, she thought, for a fly.

_Look at me._

Her whole body juddered at the almost commanding force this time, even though it had sounded no more powerful this time, she realised that she was slowly giving in to this thing that was eroding her will.

_Look at me._

She could take it no more. She opened her eyes.

_For eternity._

And then she screamed.

* * *

**AN 25.08.2014**

**Well this took more time than expected mainly because I had other things I wanted to write.(See profile for other fics) That said, this chapter is more of an interlude between Harry and Widow actually learning about each other. What happens here is important to Natasha's development as a character, and how she goes about in the world from this point on. What's changed? Well you'll find out. Needless to say, what can Harry fear so much, that even he does not dare to tread in this room? Why does he even have such a room? That will be something we revisit many years later.**

**Next time, we'll see more Harry and Widow interaction, and some interesting events. Needless to say, this is before Widow meets Hawkeye, or S.H.I.E.L.D or the events of Avengers. Remember she's supposed to be old, yet always looking young as a result of that serum. It's kinda similar to the way Wizards age. At least, I consider the serum to slow aging to keep a spy's body in peak performance for as long as possible, not create biological immortality, otherwise it would be more widely used by the higher ups. So Natasha Romanoff has an extended lifespan beyond normal humans, perhaps in the range of Wizard lifespans, hey? Besides, the serum has effects that aren't always desirable and perhaps wasn't actually re-creatable at the time. That's my take on why it isn't widely used now. I can't remember specifics but I'll check it. At this point, this is during the Cold War, I'll probably give you a proper date and everything(like her current age) next time when I introduce a certain event. Harry will be involved sparingly with Widow's activities, but he has his own things to overcome.**

**Til next time!**


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